I glance at her wide green eyes, a little shiny now. Her strawberry lips slightly part, and she nods again. I appreciate she doesn’t fill the silence with meaningless words.

“Maybe I was practical from an early age. Strategic?” I sigh and stare up at the ceiling. “I don’t want to sound like a martyr or something.”

“You don’t.” Her reply is soft and firm.

“But I saw a need, even as a child. Our family needed help. And I opted to help. I guess I never stopped. Duty-bound or something. I don’t regret it, but I also didn’t get lazy, goofy summers. When I came home from school, I took care of my brothers so my dad didn’t have to come in early from work. The neighbors pitched in. Mrs. Hill helped with Luke until she was just too old to keep up. But I didn’t want him to spend his summer working around the ranch or getting dragged everywhere with me. It’s fun for a day. Not for two months.”

“Enter, me.” I see her lips lift as she gives me a little wink. “The fun.”

I huff out a breath. “You are pretty fun. He worships the ground you walk on.”

Staring down at her nails, she tries not to laugh. “As all men should.”

Chuckling, I fully turn my gaze on her. “What were you like as a kid?”

The tip of her nose wiggles as she considers her answer. “I wish I could tell you I’ve changed a lot, but I’m not so sure I have.” There’s a self-deprecating hollowness to her voice. “I’ve always been the fun girl. The carefree girl. My dad was on the road a lot when I was younger. My mom worked all the time. We had nannies too. Or family that helped. Come to think of it, it wasn’t so different from the community Luke has around him. So don’t worry, he’ll turn out great. Just like me.”

She says it like it’s a punch line to a joke, and I just don’t get why she’s this hard on herself. Why does she see herself as some sort of failure when all I see is a smart, funny, self-possessed young woman? One who made me beg her to stay.

I shrug. “I’d be very proud of him if he turned out like you.”

When she tilts her head, one soft tendril of hair slips out and caresses the side of her face. “Really?”

“Yes, Willa. What more could I want for him? Intelligent, independent, a solid sense of humor, a good head on his shoulders.”

“Do you think he’ll proposition his nanny for no-strings-attached sex though?”

“Jesus Christ, woman.” I stare at the ceiling again.